


Not So Set In Stone

by Flanemoji



Series: Not So Set in Stone [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, dont really know how to tag this!, eddie is a statue in the park
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanemoji/pseuds/Flanemoji
Summary: Eddie can’t imagine what he’s doing here now, talking to himself again and kicking at rocks. He sure does talk to himself a lot, doesn’t he?The boy gets closer to him, staring at his own feet while he grumbles.“Spend all fuckin’ day daydreaming about a fuckin’ park statue, well, here we are, Tozier! Happy?” The boy, (Tozier?), looks up at him now, frowning beautifully. “Is it as good as you remember, you freak?” Eddie wants to look around and see who he’s talking to, but Tozier seems to be alone.At least...he continues to be as intriguing as before.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Not So Set in Stone [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898140
Comments: 6
Kudos: 111





	Not So Set In Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all... short little thing based off this wonderful drawing by Slugboytozier on twitter!! 
> 
> https://twitter.com/slugboytozier/status/1294660107121369089
> 
> :,) Hope u enjoy!! This is dedicated to him and his cute art.

Eddie hates nighttime the most.

The darkness feels as frigid and unwelcoming as his podium and the still air stifles him. When the wind blows against his skin, he feels colder, stonier… alone. 

The park is usually empty at this hour, patrons having returned home after a day of laughing and interacting. He loves to watch them, to pretend he could hop off and throw rocks in the pond or pick flowers from the community garden. But she had warned Eddie before what would happen if he set foot on the ground below him… and, call him a coward, but he wasn’t willing to risk it. So he watched, frozen, with the occasional wandering eye. He had to admit, it was quite a bit of fun to catch people off guard with a subtle twitch and shift, revel in the double-take, the whispers to their friends of “ _I swear I just saw that statue move!_ ” He could allow himself at least that much, and as long as it never got too out of hand, and he didn’t do it too often, she’d be none the wiser.

What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her right?

Right.

At night, the stars and the moon are Eddie’s only solace. Distant twinkling that breaks the unnatural stagnancy of a park after hours. The moon shines bright light on him, making his stony arms look soft and almost real. Imagine.

Eddie lays on his stomach atop his pedestal, kicking his legs back and forth behind him. He touches his fingers to the crystal moat of water that surrounds his little marble island. It’s springtime, so the flowers fall and float around peacefully. He likes to watch the ripples in the stillness. 

He hears rustling coming from the left and he startles, sitting up on all fours immediately. There’s a muffled voice, mumbling to themself as they trek in the grass. Eddie shoots a quick glance, unable to see the obscured figure in the dark just yet, before he settles into his proper position. It’s odd, someone roaming around so late in the night… especially when they lock the park gates after sundown. Usually, it’s petty crime or racoons… both of which Eddie hates. He can only hope it isn’t the former.

“...Can’t just fucking be normal, right? Gotta sneak out to visit a fucking statue like a goddamned weirdo!” 

The voice carries over in frustrated huffs, shuffling grass under their feet. Eddie tilts his head in just the slightest, fighting the urge to gasp when the figure comes into view. It’s the boy from earlier!

_It was the midday sun in his frizzy curls that caught his attention. Such a dark brown, the wrong lighting would make it black._

_Eddie couldn’t help but stare while his attention was elsewhere, scribbling furiously on a notepad._

_“No, fuck that won’t work. It sounds so cheesy--Ugh! No, not that either.”_

_The boy scratches something out and chews on the end of his pen afterward. His glasses slip down his nose just a little, and his pale skin is dotted with freckles. His teeth catch his bottom lip and Eddie keeps staring, because he’s never seen this boy before, with eyes like the soil that grows the flowers, and long fingers, and soft-looking curls, and full lips and--_

_The boy stiffens, glances towards Eddie who turns to face forward, the way he should. The boy stares back now, tapping his pencil to his chin. It takes all of Eddie’s self restraint not to turn and stare back. His peripheral vision doesn’t do him any justice._

_The boy shakes his head and slaps his notebook against his forehead. He whispers something to himself and goes back to scribbling. Eddie can’t help one last glance towards him, though, bright pink cheeks standing out against everything else._

Eddie can’t imagine what he’s doing here now, talking to himself again and kicking at rocks. He sure does talk to himself a lot, doesn’t he?

The boy gets closer to him, staring at his own feet while he grumbles.

“Spend all fuckin’ day daydreaming about a fuckin’ park statue, _well_ , here we are, Tozier! Happy?” The boy, (Tozier?), looks up at him now, frowning beautifully. “Is it as good as you remember, you freak?” Eddie wants to look around and see who he’s talking to, but Tozier seems to be alone. 

At least...he continues to be as intriguing as before. 

Tozier stands with his hands on his hips, eyebrows furrowed while he stares at Eddie intensely. It makes Eddie’s skin crawl; what could he possibly be looking at?!

It feels like an eternity of staring, Tozier glaring holes into Eddie with a look of mixed determination and frustration, before the boy shakes his head and seems to make his mind up about something.

“This is _so_ fucked up. You’re so fucking desperate…” 

To Eddie’s horror, Tozier climbs up onto the base of his island, sitting carefully on one of Eddie’s legs. He’s never had a person come so close to him like this, staring directly into his eyes like they can see something there. If he had a heart, it would be hammering against his chest, so hard it would break through the stone there. The boy squares his shoulders with finality, his hands reaching out to cup Eddie’s face, and… _oh, oh no...oh God… No, he can’t possibly do what Eddie thinks he’s going to do, is he?!_

“I’ve officially lost my marbles.” Tozier sighs, leaning closer even still.

Eddie, for his part, is panicking, wondering if he should push this boy away, scream or move and let him know he is sort of alive, or if he should just stay stock still and pretend he doesn’t feel the warm and he gentle way his fingers cradley his face, and-- and--

And it’s too late to make a decision, because Tozier has his lips against Eddie’s.

At first, it’s awkwardly still. Crickets chirp in the background. The wind blows against them. It’s so quiet he can hear the water bubbling from the creek at the edge of the park. 

Then there is this, tiny, subtle movement. Tozier’s lips slide against his minutely, and lightning bursts in Eddie’s chest. He’s never felt this warm before, heat that fans from his lips to his ears and all the way down to his finger tips. He closes his eyes, shimmery stars floating in the darkness of his vision. 

He isn’t sure how long they stay like that, but it’s a moment that feels endless and over too soon. Tozier pulls back with a gasp, his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and a look of astonishment on his face. It’s then that Eddie realizes he’d opened his eyes only when Tozier had pulled back, dread filling into all the new, warm spaces.

Tozier stares in disbelief, and Eddie figues if the cat is out of the bag, he might as well let it loose.

Eddie smiles shyly and scratches the back of his neck. “That’s a funny way of introducing yourself to someone.”

His words echo around them, Tozier’s eyes going wide like a madman, mouth gaping open like a fish. 

He stutters out a few half-beginnings of words before getting up. Eddie tries, _he really does,_ to reach out and grab him by the shirt to prevent the fall, but it all happens too fast for him. Tozier tumbles off the side of the pedestal, missing the little ring of water by only an inch. He falls backwards and rolls over, lying face down in the grass.

“Oh!” Eddie gasps and leans over the edge of the circle, gripping stone under him. Tozier doesn’t move for a moment, and dread fills Eddie’s entire body.

“H-Hello?”

Tozier groans in response but does nothing more.

Well… at least he's not dead. 

*********************

Richie wakes up with a damp shirt, a headache, and the remnants of the _weirdest_ dream he’s ever had.

At first, he thinks he passed out on his desk, because what else would explain the cold, hard surface under his face and the sort-of wetness that surrounds him? It must be his own drool, and he must have drifted off while playing on his phone (cause he sure as hell didn’t try and do his homework) but that only explains half of the problem.

Not only his head hurts, but so does his ass, like he fell flat on--

Wait. _Wait._

Richie lifts his head and stares at the grass. Like… grass grass… from outside. He’s outside. Glances to his left, and then his right, because he’s out- _fucking-_ side… and if he really _is_ outside, then that means that whole dream was…

He glances up, and comes face to face with the statue from the park blinking owlishly at him. _Blinking._

That dream wasn’t a dream.

Richie screams and scrambles to his feet, falling back on his behind while he stares up. “H-Holy shit, _holy shit!_ You’re a statue, you’re a fucking statue and you’re staring at me, _holy fuck_ \--”

“Great observation, genius.” The statue ( _the statue?!?!?)_ responds back, rolling its eyes. “Now, can you please stop screaming? You’re gonna wake up the whole town.”

Richie opens his mouth, a defeated little wheeze of a noise escaping. “The tow-- you’re worried about the _town?_ ” He adjusts to a whisper though, getting on his knees and looking up. “ _I’m_ worried about the fact that I’m going _insane_ and there is a fuckin’ _statue_ talking to me! Are you one of those creepy statue mimes who is actually just a dude?! What the fuck are you doing in the park at night man?! I--”

The statue furrows its brows and glares. “ _No,_ I’m not a creepy mime-person. I’m a _real_ statue, just… a special one, I guess?” It purses its lips and looks away.

“ _You guess?!_ ” Richie points at himself. “Y-You’re a statue, and you’re _talking_! You were cold when I--” His voice dies in his throat again.

Oh... _oh, God._

“...When you kissed me?” The statue finishes his sentence for him, looking sheepish. “Yeah, that’s because I am a statue, Tozier.”

“How do you know my last name?!” Richie squeaks, feeling like maybe he’s being pranked by the FBI officer who watches him through his webcam. 

The statue tilts its head, looking confused. “Uh… you said it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Richie deflates, sitting cross-legged and scratching his head. There’s an awkward silence for a second before he clears his throat. “So, uh, let’s say... _hypothetically_ , this isn’t a dream--”

“It isn’t.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. So let’s say it isn’t. Are you… are you actually a statue that’s alive?”

The statue is starting to look a little annoyed at him (that didn’t take very long now, did it?) “Yes. I really _am_ a statue, and I am alive.” It reaches its hand forward, pale in the moonlight. “My name is Eddie.”

Richie stares at the outstretched hand skeptically before reaching out to grab it in his own. He recoils the slightest bit at the touch, because it’s cold and smooth like marble is. Eddie seems to notice, because he takes his hand back pretty quick and rests it next to him. Richie feels a tiny pang of guilt.

“Uh, my name is Richie. Richie Tozier.”

Eddie smiles, and for a fucking statue it’s a _really_ nice smile. Richie looks away for a second while he fiddles with the ends of his shirt. “Look, man… I’m uh… I’m real sorry that I like… kissed you n’ shit. I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you were like… alive.” 

And he really wouldn’t have, but he’d been thinking about it all day, from when he was in the park earlier writing music. He’d felt someone staring, but when he looked up he noticed the statue. It was so pretty just sitting there, rimmed by light like some kind of recreation of a cherub or something. It embarrassed him to think that way about _any_ guy, let alone a _statue_ of one, so he’d pushed the thought away and went back to what he was doing. 

But there had been this nagging feeling in his chest all day, tugging and pulling with thoughts of that stupid hunk of stone. Soft cheeks and thick chiseled eyebrows… it’s _exactly_ the kind of guy Richie might crush on… if he ever let himself crush on a boy in the first place. He couldn’t shake it, and he figured, he’s already a piece of shit, what harm could daydreaming about a statue in a desperate attempt to feel something, _anything,_ do? 

Guess he royally fucked that one up, huh?

He didn’t think things would turn out like this (I mean, _who would!)_ Richie didn't think staring at a park statue would make him feel so lonely, or so confused. He didn’t think looking up at a boy would stir something up in his chest. Richie didn’t think he’d feel such a strong urge to put his lips against the softly sculpted ones that sparkled softly in the moonlight, and when he did, he didn’t think the stone would be warm, or soft. In that moment of weakness, he couldn’t help but think of that stupid Greek myth about the dude who kissed his statue until it turned real, all cause he begged Aphrodite to bring him someone as pretty as her. 

_Aphrodite, if you’re real… now would be the time._

Richie snaps his head back up to look at Eddie. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment on his face. “Wait! Uh, were you like… real _before_ I kissed you?” Was this his fault?!

Eddie snorts, giving him an amused look. “Of course I was, dumbass! You’re not that special!” Richie, despite knowing nothing about him, feels like he’s just teasing. 

“Well,” Richie raises an eyebrow, “how _did_ you become a statue then?”

Eddie’s light demeanor changes and he looks away. “Um… It’s a long story, I guess… I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“What about tomorrow?” Richie blurts out, unable to help himself.

Eddie stares at him in disbelief. “...Tomorrow? Like… you wanna come back and talk to me?”

Richie laughs. “If this all isn’t a bunch of delusions related to a concussion, then hell fuckin’ yeah, dude! You’re a _talking statue!_ ” 

Eddie keeps staring, and Richie thinks maybe he shoved his foot in his mouth again, but then Eddie smiles wide and starts laughing, nodding his head. “Y-Yeah, maybe. If you come tomorrow.”

Richie nods, smiling despite himself. He gets up off the floor and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Tomorrow, then. It’s getting late, so I should be heading home, but… it was nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Yeah… it was nice to meet you too, Richie…” There’s something in Eddie’s voice that stirs up something suspiciously like butterflies. 

They stare at each other, smiling (stupidly, if you ask Richie) until he finally can’t take it anymore. “O-okay then, bye! See ya tomorrow!” He starts to walk backwards, offering a wave to Eddie as he leaves. Eddie waves back, looking softer than any statue, alive or not, should be.

Richie smiles the whole way home.He _really_ hopes this wasn’t a dream.


End file.
